


March On, Soldier

by Dudeidcletmein



Category: DreamSMP (Minecraft), Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Recovery, Reunions, implied drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dudeidcletmein/pseuds/Dudeidcletmein
Summary: Waking up in an unfamiliar location would inflict panic on anyone. Yet for Tommy, he felt relieved. After a long struggle, he allowed his limp body to relax within the cushions that engulfed his body. The feeling of pain and anxiety was lifted off his shoulders along with the world, and for once, he slept peacefully.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 114





	March On, Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> The Dream/Tommyinnit tag is not there to symbolize a romantic relationship! It's there because of Dream's obsession with Tommy and nothing more. In this story, their relationship is very unhealthy and not romanticized. Of course, I won't stop you from shipping them, you can see their relationship however you want. Just wanted to make that clear. Also this work is about the characters not the real people.

The sound of rushing water filled the air. Tommy took in a deep breath as he allowed himself to wake up. His eyes still sealed shut as he took it all in. Tommy's head dipped back into the couch as his body sank within the cushions. He inhaled a sharp breath when the back of his skull started to sting.

He groaned at the pain, pulling his arm back to rub against the sore spot. Tommy flinched when his hand did nothing to ease the discomfort. Finally opening his eyes, he pulled his hand in front of his face to see little droplets of blood.

Tommy huffed as he brought his hand back down to his side. He gave himself a moment for his vision to clear before he looked around. While doing so he kept his head movement to a bare minimum.

Abruptly, Tommy became overwhelmingly observant of his surroundings. The water echoed through his eardrums like a low calming hum. He could make out the spikes of dried white paint on the ceiling, and the logs running along the walls. There was a wide window in front of the sofa he rested on. It was wide enough for someone to sit on the window sill while opened. The smell of pine and bark was so strong Tommy felt as though he could overdose on it. He jokingly wondered if this were a drug brewing station. He could almost chuckle at the thought.

There were a few paintings and chests he could see from his peripheral vision. Tommy wanted a better look at the place but it would be difficult to do so without turning his head. Tommy didn't want to move a muscle, because he knew if he did it would only cause pain. In his situation, he expected to feel anxious or alarmed. Yet for some reason he was calm. His body greeted the comfort under him with open arms. But he did feel a bit lightheaded so it might be because he wasn't thinking straight. Though for the first time in ages Tommy felt relieved. In an unfamiliar location, he felt as though the world had been lifted off his shoulders. And with this calm atmosphere, he eventually allows himself to relax.

As the water rumbled through the cabin, Tommy could recall a time where water didn't seem as gentle. A time where it inflicted panic and pain. That feeling of his lungs begging for air, the burning of his throat, and the fireworks that would explode inside his skull. Sometimes he would see the sun through the blurriness, and he'd believe that maybe it wasn't so bad. The light that cast through the water would give Tommy a vision of hope. That maybe if he didn't swim back up he wouldn't have to vomit out heaps of blood and water. Then he wouldn't have night terrors, where he'd wake up breathless and sorrowful. He wouldn't pass out because of the amount of blood that would leave his body. Tommy wouldn't have to deal with Dream and his endless torment, and all he had to do was stay underwater. But he always found himself swimming back up. He doesn't know why, but every time he's met with the opportunity of an easy way out he doesn't give in. Some part of Tommy just couldn't allow himself to die without a fight, and look where that got him.

Suddenly, water isn't the only sound occupying the room. A door creaks open as heavy boots make their way around the wooden planks. He heard someone huff behind him before they dropped something on the floor that created a loud _thud._ After that, the being shuffled some more. Tommy could now hear a few clanks and clinks of what he assumed were dishes being moved around.

Tommy starred at the ceiling with blank eyes, and after a few seconds he finally stirred up enough strength to sit himself up. Tommy forced his tense muscles to relax before turning his attention to the source of all the racket.

Tommy's throat closed in on itself and his chest fell heavy with emotions. He saw the back of a man he never thought he'd see again. Phil whistled a calm melody as he washed the dishes. Tommy gripped his blankets with shaky hands while starring at the man with disbelief.

"...Ph- _il?..._ " Tommy hated the way his voice broke. How it sounded so weak and small, but Phil still turned his head. With wide eyes, Phil starred at the boy who ran away from home years ago.

"Tommy? You're finally awake." He sounded relieved. Phil put on a sad smile as he watched his son's tears fall. He turns off the tap water before giving Tommy his full attention. "I hope you had a good morning."

Tommy wanted to answer back, but his mouth hung open. He knew that if he started talking he'd breakdown into a sob. After a moment that felt too long, Tommy urged a single noise out, before breaking down into coughs. His front body shot forward in an attempt to hold himself together.

Phil had swiftly turned around to fill a glass of water. He then rushed over to the couch, patting Tommy's back until he was able to accept the water. Tommy's back shrieked with pain, but he melted into the touch nonetheless. When Tommy's breathing had calmed he took the glass of water with trembling hands. He mumbled out a small "Thank you", and then drank it down.

The cold water burned his throat, but he chugged it anyway. He hung his head low once he was done, and raised the cup in the air. As he expected; Phil grabbed it and filled it with water once again.

When Phil brought back the new cup of water, Tommy was less eager this time. Only taking small sips ever so often. Before Phil could turn around and leave the room, Tommy forced out a few words.

"What... What happened?" Tommy managed to croak out.

Phil paused for a moment, it made Tommy feel the slightest bit uneasy. With a sigh, Phil finally spoke up. "I don't know that much, I was only making dinner when Techno bursted through the front door. He told me I needed to get the medkit. After we got you all bandaged up, I had asked what happened..." Phil looked down at Tommy as if he was considering telling the rest of the story. Tommy gave him a nod, and it seemed to have abolished any doubt Phil once had. Phil continued. "Techno told me he was on his way back home with firewood when he found you. He didn't say much after that, except that you were in trouble and he was worried you were going to bleed out."

Tommy had started shivering halfway through the story. He can't seem to recollect what happened yesterday, but a gut feeling told him it was nothing good.

Tommy still had so many questions. "Why was I so close to his home? Why did he help me? Why-?" Tommy inhaled a deep breath, forgetting to breathe while he was talking.

Phil took the opportunity to speak up. "I don't know, you'll have to ask Technoblade himself."

Tommy looked down. He couldn't remember ever having a good relationship with Techno. Hell, he had betrayed L'manburg and killed Tubbo. Not to mention their fight in the pit. Tommy's heart sped up at the reflection. With his head hung low, he mumbled out a small "I don't want to."

Phil sighed. "I think you don't have a choice. You'll have to talk to him eventually, Tommy."

Tommy wanted to retort, but he knew it was inevitable. He was bound to run into him now that he was supposedly living under Techno's roof. When he didn't respond, Phil ruffled his hair lightly before walking away.

He stopped at the front door to look at Tommy one last time. "You should go to sleep. You had a rough trip." With that, he closed the door behind him.

Tommy held onto that last sentence longer than intended. Slowly, he moved the blanket off him to have a better look at himself. His legs were forming bruises. One was aching more than the other, with blood painting the interior of the bandages. Experimentally, he attempted to shift his leg, regretting the choice immediately. He gasped at the pain, promising to never do that unless absolutely necessary. He noticed how dirty and bruised his left hand was. While the other one was too wrapped up to point out anything wrong. He was still wearing his ripped-up pants and shirt. And through the holes of his shirt, he can make out a few scratches and bruises. With bandages enclosed around a huge forming gash. He would need to change the bandages soon, considering 50% of them were stained with blood.

Tommy found himself staring outside the window after looking himself over. He could hear the faint sound of birds chirping and the wind whistling. The clouds painted the blue sky as the sun gave it more contrast. Tommy could drown in it. The sweet sound of life, the beautiful sight of light. Tommy's eyes grew heavy, as he drifted into a long and well-needed slumber.


End file.
